Page 95 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Stalker

“Jelly knows,” Daisy confessed. “But none of the other girls do.”

Nadine bit her lip. “What if they’re in danger?”

The sheriff exchanged a glance with Byron, who was a highly trained security expert. He worked for a private firm owned by his father and was in charge of Reynolds’ detail. Which was great for Reynolds. He, Byron, and Nico had been best friends since they’d gone to boarding school together as kids.

“I’ll have a patrol car cycle through Estates at South every so often,” Sheriff Richards said.

“What do you think, Jack?”

I looked up quickly, caught stuck in my thoughts. Reynolds was staring at me. “About?”

“Byron watching over Daisy for a while until maybe we can come up with a plan to catch this guy.”

I glanced at the incredibly handsome man, a little cowed by his height and build. He was a formidable guy. I was not thrilled to have someone who looked like he did hanging out with my Daisy. But I was worried about her. And I knew he was the best or he wouldn’t be working with Reynolds. “I’d be grateful for that.”

“What about you, Mr. Mayor?”

“Cut that shit out, Tate. You know you can call me Reynolds. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’m technically still on my honeymoon. I’ll be laid up at home with Nadine for the next couple of weeks. Hopefully, if we’re lucky, y’all will get a bead on this guy in that amount of time.”

“That’d be great,” Byron said. He turned to me. “I’ll tail Daisy around campus and anywhere else she goes for the next couple of weeks. I’ll do my best to blend in, but…” he kind of shrugged and gave a sheepish smile.

“What? You don’t think you blend?” Reynolds laughed. “It could be the Secret Service style suits… or the whole six-five, muscles for days, thing.”

“You’ll have your pick of the college girls,” Tate grinned at him.

Byron gave him a ‘get serious’ look. “I’m not after college girls. I like my women mature.”

Reynolds got a gleam in his eye. “He likes his women to be about this tall,” he held up his hand to about chest height, “with long, black hair, a body that won’t quit, a big brain, and an even bigger attitude. Oh, and her last name has to be Salazar.”

“Fuck off, man,” Byron cracked a smile, though, to take the sting out of the words.

Byron and Carmen, I thought, looking at Reynolds’ friend and security detail. They would make a good pair. I wondered, briefly, if she knew he was interested in her. She didn’t seem like the settling down type to me.

And Byron gave off those vibes.

“So, do we tell her you’ll be watching over her?” I asked.

Byron nodded. “I don’t want to scare her and make her thinkI’mher stalker. When she gets back, we’ll talk to her about how it will go down. Basically, I’ll just follow her around and look for any clues I can pick up on.” He turned to Tate Richards. “And, Sheriff, this should give you time to figure out everything you can about her stalker. Or stalkers.”

“On it.” Richards looked at his watch. “I’ve gotta go. But I’ll keep y’all in the loop about anything I find.”

What would he find? I wondered. I didn’t think there was much of a chance that they would figure out I had been lightly stalking her.

At least I hoped they wouldn’t.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Daisy

Two weeks had gone by, and I didn’t think the sheriff was any closer to finding my stalker. The notes and texts had stopped, though, and I was breathing a sigh of relief, for sure. I didn’t know if my stalker had caught wind of the sheriff investigating him, or if he’d been scared away by Byron, my ridiculously hot, temporary security guard.

Nia and Jelly were half in love with him. I wasn’t exactly immune, either, but I was pretty taken with Jack. And I’d noticed how Byron looked at Carmen Salazar. Jelly and I were used to seeing him around Sugar from time to time, usually during the day before it opened. He stopped by often after working out with Nico at Saffron.

“It’s like his muscles have muscles,” Nia breathed, staring at him.

“And yet he’s so buttoned up, so… business-like.” Jelly stared at him over the top of her purple, heart-shaped sunglasses. She’d dressed kind of emo when she’d first shown up in town about a year ago. But Carmen had nixed that and given her a makeover. She hadn’t gotten rid of some of her clothes, though, mainly her favorite sunglasses and her Doc Martens. Her baggy, mismatched clothing was long gone, though. I thought she’d probably dressed that way to hide how beautiful she was, but she never talked about it. “God. What I wouldn’t give to fuck that.” She shook her head.

“Agreed,” Nia said, staring at him.